


I Can Be Your New Addiction

by estrella30



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that’s another problem. Harry is <i>way</i> too aware of Niall right now to get entirely comfortable. He’s just…</p><p>Niall is just there – right there – and Harry is having all sorts of ridiculous thoughts about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Be Your New Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> fic based on the TFLN: Slept with my first Irish dude before I even got off the plane. Dublin has no idea what I have in store for it. 
> 
> thanks to hanelissar for the amazing beta and britpicking! any remaining mistakes are my own.

_:boarding sooooon wil call u when I land_

_:hav fun in iiiiiiireland you twat Xx : )_

*

Harry likes the lad the minute he gives his seat up to Harry on the plane. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “You sure?”

“Yep,” the guy says, and slides from the aisle seat into the middle. “You’ll be cramped in the middle and I don’t give many fucks on where I sit, so have at it.”

“Cheers,” Harry says, and shoves his bag into one of the overhead bins. 

The aisle seat is definitely more comfortable than the middle would have been and Harry turns to thank the guy again, but he looks pretty involved in air drumming along with whatever he’s listening to on his ipod. Harry hesitates, but in the end manners win out and he politely taps the guy on the shoulder to get his attention. 

“Oh, hey,” the guy says. His hair is messy and blond and when he smiles his entire face crinkles with it; his mouth and cheeks and the corners of his eyes. “All right?”

“Everything’s great, yeah,” Harry says and sticks out his hand. “Harry. I just wanted to say thanks again.”

“Niall,” the guy – Niall, his mind corrects – says and shakes his hand hard, pumping it twice before letting go. “You headed home then too?”

“Yeah.” Harry grins and leans back into his seat. The flight from New York to Dublin is packed, and every time he tries to get comfortable someone else walks past and kicks his trainer or shoves against his shoulder. Harry’s glad for the extra leg room but he’ll be even happier when everyone sits the fuck down. “Well, not _home_ home. I’m from England originally, but a new home now for a bit.”

“Nice,” Niall says. “I figured England. What part?”

“Cheshire,” Harry says, and Niall snorts with laughter, slapping his thigh and shaking his head. 

“What!”

“Nothing, just… _Cheshire_ ,” Niall says, pulling the word out with a slow drawl and holding his pinky in the air. “You posh fuck.”

Harry laughs; loud and surprised. Louis is the only person Harry has ever known who is able to get away with saying whatever is on his mind at any given moment, but Niall seems like he’d give Louis a run for his money. “Piss off,” Harry says, and shoves Niall with his elbow. “What about you? You from Dublin?”

“Nah. Mullingar,” Niall says. “I’ve got a mate in Dublin who's staying with me for a bit though. He’s from around your parts originally, I think. Bradford, or summat.”

Harry feels his eyebrows lift. “Bradford, eh? Tough guy?”

“Nah,” Niall says. “He’s a complete pussy, actually,” he adds and rolls his eyes, but Harry can see Niall’s both fond and teasing at the same time and he laughs with him. 

*

They’re both quiet for a little while after takeoff; Harry playing a game on his phone and Niall eating what looks to be an endless supply of food from the rucksack shoved under the seat in front of him. Harry has never seen someone bring so much food for a flight anywhere. If they get rerouted to the moon before reaching Dublin, Niall will probably not have a hungry minute.

Niall is three bags of crisps, one sandwich and two packets of sweets in before Harry shuts his mobile and turns in his seat. “When was the last time you ate?”

Niall scrunches his face up. “Uh…I had a few slices at the airport.”

“Pizza?”

“And cake,” Niall says and shrugs. He crumples the empty bag of sweets in his hand and shoves it into his pocket. “Christ, I’ll be glad when we get back home so I can have a goddamn pint without sneaking around like some kind of criminal.”

“Were you here for long then?” Harry asks. He feels bad, hammering Niall with questions, but he seems nice enough and friendly and he reminds Harry of home. Harry desperately wants to just be off this plane and in Ireland already. 

“A few weeks. I’ve got a mate who’s in sport and moved to the states a year or so ago. I’ve always been saying I’d come visit so this time I just…did.” Niall reaches into his rucksack again and pulls out a pack of Oreos. He offers one to Harry and Harry grabs it and sticks it in his mouth before Niall can change his mind. “What about you?” Niall asks around a mouthful of biscuit. 

Harry finishes chewing and swallows . “My sister moved to New York a few years ago. I’ve come out a bunch of times but this last time…” Harry trails off. It’s stupid, trying to explain to someone he’d just met how much he really hated it this time. How he was happy to see Gemma but spent the whole week waiting for this flight right now to take him back. “I’m just happy to get home,” Harry settles on, and even he can hear how homesick he sounds.

If anything, Harry's confession just makes Niall lean in closer. “ _Me too_ ,” he moans. “I’d punch an old lady in the face for a plate of proper chips right about now.”

“Biscuits and a _decent_ cup of tea,” Harry adds.

Niall’s eyes are gleaming. “A _good_ lager.”

“A _real_ takeaway curry.”

“ _Nandoooooooos_ ,” Niall moans again, this time loud enough to earn a dirty look from the old lady sitting on the other side of Harry in the next row. 

“Sorry,” Harry says to her, flashing his cheekiest smile. He can see Niall holding his middle finger up from the corner of his eye, and he leans over to block Niall from her view and bats his hand behind him to get Niall to stop. “Quit it,” Harry hisses. “You’re awful.”

“Bah.” Niall says, and smacks Harry’s hand until it turns into a proper slap fight. Harry hears the woman sigh again but he doesn’t care much, just turns in his seat and tries to stick his fingers in Niall’s ears and poke his face and get him in a headlock. 

Harry would feel bad about basically abusing someone he’s just met, but then Niall dumps an entire pack of sweets down the back of Harry’s shirt and Harry doesn’t feel too badly at all.

*

They’re a few hours into the flight and Harry is restless. 

He’s already fucked around on his phone. He’s listened to his ipod. He’s eaten all of the snacks he brought – minus what Niall nicked off him – and now he’s bored. He would try and sleep but he’s never been good at relaxing on planes. Plus Niall’s next to him, bouncing along to whatever he’s listening to, banging his elbows and knees and feet into Harry’s every time he moves too much in his seat. 

And that’s another problem. Harry is _way_ too aware of Niall right now to get entirely comfortable. He’s just…

Niall is just there – right there – and Harry is having all sorts of ridiculous thoughts about him.

Maybe it’s because Niall reminds Harry of home, or because he was nice to Harry for no reason other than because he was a decent person, but Harry really _likes_ Niall. He’s fun and easy to talk to and genuine and let’s face it, he’s fit as well, and those things right there would usually be more than enough for Harry to try and pull someone if he were back home. 

If he’d met Niall in a pub or at a party he’d have already tried his best lines and done whatever he could to try and get Niall to do something – snog him in a corner or try and bring him home for the night – but the situation they’re in is awkward at best, and Harry’s stumped. He’s not usually hung up on the mechanics of trying to pull someone, bird or bloke. Harry knows he’s got charm by the bucket and generally goes under the assumption that someone fancies him until they tell him they don’t, so that’s what he decides to do. Worst case scenario Niall says no and they sit awkwardly for the next three hours and Harry never has to see him again anyway. 

“Hey, so, uh.” Harry taps Niall on the shoulder and pulls the earbud gently from his ear. Niall turns his head and smiles and Harry feels something stir low in his belly. “I’m headed to the loo,” he says, and widens his eyes a little so Niall can maybe see what he’s hinting at. 

“Nice, mate,” Niall says, and pats Harry on the back. 

Harry huffs. “No, I.” He curls his fingers around Niall’s forearm and digs in. Niall glances down at Harry’s hand, then up at his face and squints a little. “I’m headed to the loo,” Harry repeats. “If you, I don’t know, wanted to join me maybe.”

Harry’s heart is pounding so hard he’s surprised the entire plane can’t hear it. Niall is still staring at him, his face getting pinker the longer Harry watches. First his cheeks, then the tips of his ears, down his neck and throat. Harry wonders if it spreads across his chest; if his skin would feel as warm under Harry’s hands as it looks. 

Finally Niall licks his lips, and raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Harry says, and slides his hand down Niall’s arm to tangle their fingers together. “Meet me there in one minute,” he whispers against Niall’s ear, and Niall makes a little grunt that goes straight to Harry’s dick. 

*

The bathroom is small. It’s so small Harry actually has second thoughts about doing anything in it because he has no idea how he and Niall are actually going to fit, but then there’s a knock at the door – a series of complicated taps that Harry’s never heard before but is pretty sure it’s very specific to Niall – and he’s pulling open the door and yanking Niall in as they both giggle helplessly. 

“Are you sure about this, mate?” Niall asks. Harry is wedged between the toilet and the tiny sink and Niall is right in front of him, his back pressed tight against the door. Harry reaches past Niall’s hip, flicks the lock, and shakes his head. 

“No, we might both actually die if we try and do anything in here,” he says, but he’s managed to get his hands on Niall’s hips and Niall sways toward him a little, ducking his head and smiling. 

“It looks like a lot more fun when people do this in films,” Harry admits. 

Niall laughs sharply. “What kind of films are you watching?”

“The right kind,” Harry says, and wiggles his eyebrows. 

It’s really not so bad now that they’re used to it, Harry thinks. He shoves forward a little and Niall is right there. Harry tightens his hands on Niall’s hips and Niall grins and pulls Harry in by the belt loops. Harry’s hard already and the plane hums around them, hitting a bump of turbulence and making them stumble even closer together. 

“We doing this?” Niall says against Harry’s ear. Niall’s mouth is wet and damp. He flicks his tongue out and licks the shell of Harry’s ear, bites down hard on the lobe and Harry’s hands finally remember what they’re supposed to be doing and fumble with the button and zip on Niall’s trousers. 

“Yeah,” Harry says. Niall bats Harry’s hands out of the way and shoves his trousers and pants down his legs, then reaches for Harry’s to do the same. Harry can feel the drag of Niall’s cock against his thigh, hard and hot and he wants to look down. He wants to see what Niall looks like, if he’s as pretty out of his clothes as Harry suspects, but there’s barely any room and their heads knock together as Harry tries to move. “Fuck, fuck, I want to see you, I want to—“

“Harry, we’re in a fucking _plane_ ,” Niall says but he’s laughing around the words. “Just jerk me off and I’ll do you, yeah?” and then he grabs Harry’s dick and curls his fingers so tight Harry sees stars. 

It’s too much, almost; too hot and tight and cramped. Harry’s knee is banging into the cabinet, the edge of the toilet is jammed against his back and Niall’s head is thumping against the door every time Harry twists his fingers or tries to get his mouth on Niall’s skin. The plane lurches again and Harry leans into it, his mouth touching the corner of Niall’s in a messy kiss and he comes like that, biting at Niall’s chin and digging his fingers into the soft skin at Niall’s hips.

“Fuck, fuck, motherfuck,” Niall mutters and Harry thinks _screw it_ and crouches down as much as he can to mouth at the head of Niall’s dick. “Holy _shit_ ,” Niall gasps. His hand slaps back against the door, and Harry grins, hums a little and sinks down an inch or so lower and swallows Niall’s come when it floods his mouth, Niall’s fingers twisting knots in his hair.  
Harry stands up quickly and the two of them yank up their pants and trousers and try and fix each other so they don’t look like they just fucked in the bathroom. Harry laughs when Niall catches his eye, and says, “Not bad, yeah?”

“Not bad? Mate, you’re like fucking _magician_ ,” Niall tells him, and then don’t even bother leaving separately, instead walking back to their seats smiling and laughing the whole way.

*

Harry is worried that it will be awkward when they get off the plane. 

Niall is awesome and Harry likes him a lot. He’s just…he’s got so much going on right now; moving to a new city, getting settled with new flatmates. He’s hoping Niall won’t make it awkward or weird or anything, and is happy when Niall does exactly what he expects him to. He hugs Harry hard, playfully slaps the side of his cheek and shakes his hand with a twinkle in his eye. 

“It was a pleasure flying the friendly skies with you, Harry,” Niall says, and hikes his now empty rucksack over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go grab my bag and then ring my mate to come get me. You need a ride or anything?”

“Nah.” Harry waves him off easily. “I’ve got to make a few calls and then I’ll get a ride later.” 

He feels a small pang in his belly as Niall starts to back away, but he tells himself he’s got no time for this anyway and pushes it down. “Was nice meeting you, mate,” he calls out and waves. 

Niall smiles and gives him a jaunty salute. “You too, Harry. Best of luck and all that.”

“Cheers,” Harry says, and watches as Niall disappears into the crowd.

*

Harry grabs a pint and a seat in one of the airport bars and pulls out his phone to text Louis. His skin still tingles where Niall’s stubble rubbed against it, and Harry rubs his cheek absently and grins. His phone buzzes to life and Harry types out a text as quickly as he can. 

_slept with my first Irish dude before I even got off the plane. dublin has no idea what I have in store for it._

His phone rings barely ten seconds after he sends the text, and Harry answers already laughing. “Yeah?”

“Harold Styles, you _gigantic slag_ ,” Louis drawls and Harry laughs even harder. “What in the _hell_ did you do?”

*

Harry pays the taxi driver and grabs his bags from the boot. He checks the address he’s scribbled on the back of his pub receipt and looks up at the flat again before waving the driver off. This must be the place. The address matches up and it looks nice enough. 

Harry wishes Louis had even a little more information about the flatmates he’d set him up with, (“a friend of Eleanor’s has a boyfriend who’s got a mate who moved from England to Ireland and is kipping with an Irish lad they both know who needs another flatmate. Do you really need more information than that? It’s perfect, Harry, just take it.”) but Harry figures he’s friendly and charming and no matter what it won’t be _terrible_. Even if it is Harry figures he only has to stay a month or two while he looks for something else if he needs. 

He makes his way up the stairs and checks the number of the flat on his paper one last time before shoving it in his pocket and rapping his knuckles on the door. 

“Zayn, can you get that?” he hears shouted from inside. “It’s probably the new guy.”

Harry grins a little as the door swings open and one of the fittest lads he’s ever laid eyes on opens the door. 

“Hey, mate,” the lad says, and grins easily. He sticks out his hand for Harry to shake. “I’m Zayn. You our third?”

“I think so, yeah,” Harry says, and rubs at the back of his neck. “My mate Louis set me up through a friend of his girlfriends—“

And then he’s cut off because a second person is coming up behind Zayn. Harry sees a flash of blond hair and a bright smile and freezes, and thinks to himself, _no way. there’s no fucking way_ \--

“Harry?” Niall says. He’s completely _beaming_ , his grin brighter than anything Harry’s ever seen, and he bursts out laughing. 

“Niall?” Harry says. He can feel the smile stretching across his face. “Really?”

“Really,” Niall says. He shoves Zayn out of the way with his hip and grabs Harry’s arm, dragging him into the flat. “This is brilliant,” he says, “Bloody fucking _brilliant_. Now get your arse in here.” 

And Harry laughs and follows him in.

 

-END-


End file.
